Rothenburg ob der Hunger- One man's hungry trip round a beautiful city

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I said I wasn't going to do these chunky little blog entries on here any more, but I want to write about my trip to Bavaria, because it was, in itself, a mixture of fun, loneliness and, primarily, hunger.

The reason I was visiting Rothenburg ob der Tauber last week was to go and see our very good family friend. During the Second World War, he was a prisoner of war in England, and made close connections with my family (on my mother's side), and since 1946 he has never forgotten the kindness that my family apparently showed him. Every now and then we get a phone call from him, and he wants to know everything that is going on with us. Obviously now, he is a very old man of 87 years, with a few health problems, but nevertheless in good condition. So, last Tuesday I set off from Reutlingen to pay him a visit.

I arrived in Rothenburg at about 2:30pm, and having set off at 12:00, I hadn't had anything to eat for lunch. My German friend came to the car park and "meeted and greeted" me, and took me up to his flat. Now, I don't want to be nasty here, or show any negativity towards his house, but it scared me. It was like walking into an old castle or something; heavy drapes that hung across the doorways, tapestries on the wall, crucifixes and pictures of Jesus dotted around the place. The flat was very clean, and seeing as it is no mean feat for a gentleman of that age to look after it without help; I was impressed. He showed me to my room, which again was spotless, but had that eerie feel to it. I think it may have been due to the two serial-killer type china dolls staring at me from the bed, but who knows why I didn't feel comfortable there. After showing me around the house, we then went through to the kitchen to have something to eat. My insides were doing a little conga line around my body, at the thought of having some nourishment. Unfortunately, the food didn't come quickly. He has such good memories of his time in England that he talks about it non-stop, and whilst preparing the lunch (which was only a slice of toast each), he managed to drag it out to an hour's wait, because each time he would start doing something he would remember another story. I could hear my stomach saying, "James, for goodness' sake, we need that bread. We can't run for much longer on that cereal bar and Murray mint you had at 12:30." After eating my small piece of toast, we sat and talked for a little while longer, but what I really wanted to do was get up, say "I think that's enough talking for today", and raid the fridge. I then heard the sad story of how his wife passed away, which did actually move me. My mood was then changed from "moved" to "disturbed", when he revealed that his wife died in bed in the flat. I think it was here that I realised why I didn't feel so comfortable in the house.

It was then announced that we would have to go to the shop. Because of this, I figured we would be buying something for Abendessen (dinner)- this later transpired to be an incorrect thought. However, before we could go, I had a problem to deal with: I had forgotten my coat. For my host, this was no problem, as he told me that he had plenty of coats available for me to try. Yes, for him it was no problem, but the idea of having to wear an 87 year old gentleman's coat was not too appealing for me. Anyway, bless his soul, he created a kind of dressing room for me with various coats to wear, and they were, as I feared, old-manly. I settled on a beige number that didn't look too bad when I had it on, but you could still tell that it belonged to a man who had seen a world war transpire. Unfortunately, the coat that he wore was identical to the other one he had, so we both had to go over to the shop in the exact same coat. Luckily enough, I only had to wear it from his house, across the road, and into the shopping centre, because there was a cheap Peacocks/Matalan type shop in there where I bought myself a new jacket for twenty euros. I hastily stuffed his coat into a bag, and possibly this showed how much I didn't want to wear it. We pressed on with the shopping anyway. The purchases we made though, made me question what he had planned for dinner. Some cheese, a packet of wafer biscuits, some cola and some brandy. We paid for it, headed back home and went back to the kitchen. This is when it became clear to me that I wouldn't be eating tonight. My host carefully filled a large bowl with the biscuits and said to me "go and sit down in front of the TV and enjoy those". I sat in the living room, my stomach rumbling and my eyes heavy with fatigue. Together, we watched TV for about an hour and a half, and then (at around 9pm), I told him I was too tired and had to go to bed. Luckily, I had brought two croissants with my in my bag, so I ate these alone in my scary room, read a book for a while, and then went to sleep.

*Tap, tap, tap* was what awoke me the next day. My gentle host tiptoed into my room and said "lebst du noch?" ("are you still alive?"). I looked at my watch, thinking it would be 11 or 12, but it was half past 8. He clearly doesn't understand the sleeping pattern of a 21 year old student. I got up, got dressed and had breakfast. He had made me a boiled egg, and I had a slice of toast too, but I was still hungry (as you may have guessed). He then gave me a tour book to Rothenburg and sent me on my way. In Rothenburg I had a nice time; I looked around all the tourist shops, walked around the castle wall, went to this funfair place. It's a very nice place, but I was lonely. Doing things alone isn't fun. I had also banged my head on the ceiling of the castle wall whilst walking around it, and I said the "F" word for one of the first times in my life. So Rothenburg is a place of firsts.

I had promised my host that I would meet up with him at 2, so that we could go with his walking group for a little hike. So, at 2, I made my way to the market square and found my dear little host beaming at me. We went for a walk with his friends, which was nice, but they were all 70+. One weird thing that happened whilst we were walking, one of the men we were with stopped in the middle of a cycle path and just urinated. No one batted an eye-lid to this, which struck me as odd, but maybe he always does it. After this, we went to this bar/restaurant/pub thing and had a drink. I hadn't found anywhere to eat (that wasn't a fancy restaurant where I would have had to dine alone) whilst I was walking round Rothenburg, so I was still ravenous. As I was sitting in this bar/restaurant/pub (which had loads of weird pumpkins as decorations on the table), a song book was thrust at me. Then an elderly gentleman whipped out an accordion and they all started singing these old German folk songs. I have learnt a lot from being in Germany; mainly that a lot of Germans love to sing. So I sat there, mouthing the words to these songs whilst they red-faced men had a jolly old time around me.

We then left this pub and went to see his English Conversation Club. This was hosted in an even weirder location. Another pub/restaurant, but it was in complete darkness. A few candles let the way through, but I am sure I have developed eye-strain from trying to read the menu in there. I finally got a big meal (which I had no say in and was chosen by my host), but luckily it was nice. I devoured it in a short amount of time, and I contemplated eating the plate too. Then the rest of the English club arrived. Most of them were nice and friendly, but I had one gentleman (I use that term loosely) who approached me and said "You're sat in my seat." I replied with "I was here first". I didn't realise this man was the head of the club; but either way, I don't care. He then tried his hardest to get me to move, and I eventually did (only to make sure my host wasn't thought badly of for bringing a rude guest). They also had this book where the guests to the club would write their comments about there evening there- I left it unwritten in.

I left Rothenburg that night. I enjoyed seeing my family friend, and seeing Rothenburg too. I didn't enjoy: wearing his clothes, sleeping in the scary flat, being hungry for a long time, hitting my head on the ceiling, or being rudely spoken to by the club leader. It was an experience, and I have come out a stronger man because of it.

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